


just let me adore you

by heaveninbusan



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lee Minho | Lee Know, Established Relationship, Felching, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex, Softer Than It Looks, Top Han Jisung | Han
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29834628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heaveninbusan/pseuds/heaveninbusan
Summary: jisung is exhausted from studying for his exams. He’s practically been living on coffee and energy drinks for the last week or so — and he desperately needs a break, to unwind.thankfully, minho is there to help.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 4
Kudos: 226
Collections: MINSUNG BINGO: Round Two





	just let me adore you

**Author's Note:**

> my first work for [minsung bingo!](http://twitter.com/minsungbingo)
> 
> tropes used: top jisung/bottom minho, shower sex
> 
> also based on the ficathon prompt P064 (aka the summary)

Exhaustion pools in Minho's body, settling deep in his joints. The muscles of his neck are tense and tight after his thirteen hour plane ride home from Los Angeles, and all he wants to do is get into his apartment, climb into bed next to Jisung, and sleep for the next six years. The only thing between him and the sweet, sweet bliss of passing the fuck out is the third and final flight of stairs. His bag is heavy--not surprising after being on tour for four months--but he can do it. He _can._

It's the middle of the night and so he tries to quiet his shuffling feet, moving glacially slow as he unlocks the door. It's all for nothing, though. First, there's the cats' wild greetings as he steps inside and kicks off his boots. But then there's the more pressing matter of all the lights being on, music playing from their bedroom, and the absolute disarray of the apartment itself. Dishes fill the sink, the coffee pot is still on despite it being one in the morning, and it looks like a laundromat exploded in their living room. The calendar hanging on the fridge with its bright red circle drawn around today's date, the day Minho finally gets home, reminds Minho that it's also finals week for Jisung.

Shit.

Minho hangs his coat on the hook by the door and dumps his suitcase in one of the kitchen chairs before heading deeper into the apartment towards the bedroom. The door is shut but the light on inside filters through the opening at the bottom, along with the music Jisung must be working on. He briefly remembers their conversation about one day moving into a two-bedroom place so that Jisung can have his own space to work, but that's not what his first priority is right now. No, his _first_ priority is pulling Jisung away from whatever has him up this late, whatever's distracted him and had him so anxious that he's left their home in tatters.

This time, he enters loudly so he doesn't startle Jisung, finding his boyfriend of four years now sitting on the bed fully clothed, hunched over his laptop. The blue light wouldn't be flattering anyway, but it illuminates Jisung's sunken cheeks and hollow eyes as Jisung bites his lower lip and taps something out on the keyboard. Jisung hardly even moves when he sees Minho entering the room, but he does offer a bright, wide smile that Minho returns in kind.

"What are you doing up, babe?" Minho asks, sinking onto the bed beside Jisung. He leans in for a kiss and Jisung pushes his head at him until Minho presses his lips to Jisung's hair.

"I have to get this done--"

"When's it due?"

"Friday."

Minho sighs. He doesn't want to interrupt Jisung if he's feeling particularly creative or inspired, but he also knows how Jisung can get during exams, watched first hand the anxiety and panic attacks that would overtake Jisung's entire existence, especially in his early university days. He'd rather Jisung table the inspiration for the night if it meant they could avoid that.

Minho looks around the room, at the state it's in. It's not as terrible as the living room--mostly because it seems like the laundry never made it back here in the first place. But there's a giant glass of something that looks strangely like carbonated coffee sitting on the nightstand next to half a dozen empty Red Bull cans and the sheets smell kind of stale. The bags under Jisung's eyes just bring it all home.

"You need a break," Minho starts, gently.

"I need to get this done," Jisung repeats.

"It's Monday night, you have plenty of time." Minho glances at the screen and notes that it's just Google Docs open right now, and nothing will be lost if he simply... shuts the laptop on his own.

"Hyung!" The word is more of a whine than a shout and so Minho knows he's gotten away with interrupting Jisung for now.

"You _need_ a _break_ , Jisung," Minho repeats. He pushes Jisung's chest until he lies back on the mattress, head resting comfortably on the pillows and then climbs on top of him, finally getting the kiss he asked for a few moments ago.

Jisung tastes, predictably, like the energy drinks he likes to chug when he's stressed. But it's _Jisung_ and Minho can't find it in himself to care about that right now. He sinks into the warmth of his boyfriend's arms around his neck, deepening the kiss until he feels Jisung relax beneath him. They kiss long and slow until Minho finally pulls away to take a breath.

"Hi," Jisung says quietly. He reaches up to push the bangs off Minho's forehead.

"Hi." Minho can't help the smile that spreads across his face.

"I missed you."

A spark of guilt flares in Minho. It's _hard_ trying to juggle his career as a dancer with his relationship with Jisung and he really hates it every time he has to leave for tours--and he _really_ hates that he loves to leave for tours. It's an internal war all the time.

"I'm sorry," he says, finally.

"Don't be." Jisung says it like he means it, with a soft smile on his lips. "I get to watch all the fancams later and pick you out based on who's got the best thighs--and then I get to miss you more."

Minho giggles, leaning down to connect their mouths again. "I missed you," he says between kisses.

"That's my line."

"I deliver it better."

"You _wish._ "

Minho shuts Jisung up with another kiss, but this time it's a little more heated, a little more urgent. They haven't seen each other in six long weeks when Minho had a break for the holidays and made a very quick, very expensive trip home for two days. He was totally exhausted when he got back on the road again, but it was worth every second. That time apart is the glue that binds their lips together now; they can’t tear themselves away from one another. But as Minho’s hand slips past the hem of Jisung’s ratty, stained t-shirt, Jisung wriggles away, even as his lips stays attached to Minho’s.

“ _I’m gross,”_ he whines into Minho’s mouth. Minho giggles back, because _yeah_ he kind of is. He doesn’t smell great and his hair is kind of oily but Minho doesn’t care at all. He’s still warm and soft under Minho’s touch and all Minho wants to do is get closer.

“Mhm,” Minho hums, “I don’t care.” He kisses a trail across Jisung’s jaw to his ear, enjoying the familiar way Jisung sighs and softens under him. 

“But I do.”

“So take a shower.”

“But I’m _tired.”_

Minho laughs at Jisung’s whines, chest swelling with fondness. He loves Jisung so much, even when he’s being a belligerent baby. “You couldn’t go to bed like _this_ anyway, so like I said, _take a shower_.”

Jisung pouts. “Start it for me?”

Minho fixes him with a deadpan glare, but it doesn’t last long. Jisung could ask for anything and Minho would do it for him--maybe not without complaint, but he’d do it. He plants one last quick kiss to Jisung’s forehead before he climbs off the bed. 

“Thank you!” Jisung sings, his voice trailing after Minho as he makes his way into the en suite bathroom.

The bathroom, thankfully, isn’t in the same haphazard state as the rest of the apartment. It could use a good cleaning but it doesn’t feel like a biohazard like the kitchen sink does. While Minho waits for the shower to heat up, he picks up the discarded clothes and dumps them in the hamper, and quickly brushes his teeth. Jisung might complain about being gross, but after a day of traveling, Minho doesn’t feel much better. 

With the bathroom sufficiently steamed up, Minho goes to grab Jisung but instead finds him passed out, spread like a starfish over their bed. Minho shakes his head. Jisung looks so comfortable, like he hasn’t slept in days and he’s finally getting rest--which might actually be true, knowing Jisung. But as much as he’d like to, Minho can’t leave him there. 

“Sungie,” he singsongs, hovering over him. Jisung stirs a little, but it’s not enough. “Jisungie,” he says, louder this time, grabbing onto Jisung’s wrist and tugging. “You can go to bed soon, I promise, but you really, really need to shower.”

“Rude.”

“Mhm, let’s go.”

But Jisung is stubborn and a _child_ and it takes all of Minho’s strength to pull him off the bed. Minho can tell he’s mostly pretending but there’s no faking the way his eyelids droop and the huge yawn he’s unable to stifle. It takes about a thousand willingly-given kisses and lots of indulgence, but he gets Jisung to the bathroom, undressed, and into the shower at last. Then, even though he’s jet-lagged and achy, Minho gets to work on at least straightening up the bedroom.

He starts with the empty cans piled on every flat surface available. It’s not like Jisung can’t take care of himself. He _can_ and he does most of the time. He lived alone before they moved in together two years ago, and his apartment only ever go this bad during exam season, just like it is now. Minho wishes that he could do something, anything, to ease Jisung’s anxiety, but his perfectionism is a part of him, and what makes his work so damn _good._ At least Minho can be there to support him when it does get bad, and it’s Jisung’s last semester, thank god.

Once the trash is cleared away, he flips through the stacks of papers and notebooks spread out on the bed, slipping paperclips onto the piles that Jisung had made so they don’t get shuffled out of order before stacking it all on the desk. It’s only when he finally changes the sheets that he realizes Jisung is _still_ gone.

“Everything okay in here?” he asks, ruffling the shower curtain. 

The air smells like sandalwood, so at least Jisung’s clean. He gives Minho a noncommittal grunt in return and when Minho peeks his head in, he finds Jisung just standing in the hot spray, eyes closed. He must be so tired, and Minho softens. But then his eyes trail down the rest of Jisung’s body, finding him half hard, and he has an idea.

Shucking his clothes at speeds normally found in horny teenage boys, Minho hops into the shower too. The water pelting his back stings, the heat sending shivers through him. Jisung’s smile is slow and syrupy when he peeks one eye open, reaching immediately for Minho’s waist and pulling him closer. When he kisses him, Jisung’s lips are hot, his touch scorching. This close together, bare skin pressed against bare, slick skin, it doesn’t take much for Minho’s cock to grow hard too. He rolls his hips forward and Jisung gasps into his mouth.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Minho whispers.

"You said that already."

"Mhm, I meant it."

"You missed my dick," Jisung jokes and Minho can barely contain his smile.

"You're right, that's _literally_ the only reason I even came back."

Jisung laughs but the sound stutters into a gasp as Minho slides his hand downward and proves his point. He strokes Jisung to full hardness, leaning him against the wall and watching his face shift from open mouthed pleasure to scrunching his brow when he feels the cold tiles, and back again. His eyes shut and his head falls back and he rocks his hips into Minho's touch. It's so _easy_ for Minho to pull Jisung apart, and the thought has Minho hot all over.

Minho sinks to his knees, hand still on Jisung, moving in long, lazy strokes. Jisung takes a second to adjust the shower so that the water isn't raining down onto Minho's head, but then he leans back again, fingers curling in Minho's hair. It's such a small thing, really, but it's thoughtful and sweet, and Minho presses a kiss to Jisung's hip. _God_ he's happy to be home. He kisses a long line across the tight muscles of Jisung's abdomen, feeling them bunch under his lips. Jisung has never dealt with teasing well, and sometimes Minho likes to push those buttons, taking his sweet time until Jisung is nearly in tears with want. But tonight is different, tonight Minho just wants to take care of him, to loosen the tension that has him wound so tight.

He wets his lips, wrapping them around the head of Jisung's cock, listening to the low hiss Jisung lets out at the sudden contact. Jisung's fingers tighten around his hair as he slowly sinks down and pulls back up. He does this a few times, savoring the clean taste and soft skin in his mouth. But before he can waste anymore time, he wraps his hand around the shaft, uses the other to pin Jisung in place, and finds a steady rhythm.

Jisung tastes so good, and more than that, he _sounds_ good, his voice echoing off the bathroom walls, sending tiny rivulets of pleasure along Minho's skin. He picks up his pace, encouraged by Jisung's moans. His cock throbs between his legs as he pushes deeper and deeper. There's a low buzzing in his head and all he can think about is bringing Jisung to his peak.

"Hyung, hyung, wait." Jisung nudges him gently until he pulls off, panting.

"What's the matter?" Minho looks up, finding Jisung staring down at him, eyes still heavy, barely open.

"I'm gonna bust if you don't stop."

"That's kind of the point, babe."

"Mm, wanna fuck you."

Minho smiles. "What do you say?"

"Shut the fuck up," Jisung laughs, tilting his head back again.

"That's my good boy."

Minho can hardly hold in his own giggles as he rises to his feet, connecting their mouths once again. He wraps his arms around Jisung, elbows resting on Jisung's shoulders, and pulls him in close. For a moment it's no longer about getting Jisung off; it's about feeling his heartbeat against his chest, the solid weight of his body instead of just a voice on the other end of the phone.

"Okay," Minho says, pulling away. "I'm gonna clean up. Go lie down, I'll be right out."

“But why not right here?” To drive his point home, Jisung wraps an arm around Minho’s middle, sliding downward to grab his ass.

“ _Because,_ ” Minho says, pecking him on the lips. “You look like you’re going to collapse. Let me take care of you.”

Jisung pouts but finally agrees, leaving Minho alone to give himself a thorough wash and work himself open. It’s been _so_ long, and the stretch is so tight, it takes longer than he would have liked. By the time he’s ready, legs trembling just a bit, the shower water’s run cold. He almost expects to find Jisung asleep again, but instead, he’s sitting up in the middle of the bed. Resting against the headboard, he strokes himself lazily, eyes falling shut. Minho leans against the doorframe, watching him for a moment. 

A single lamp glows from the opposite corner, casting Jisung’s skin in a golden light. Hair still damp from the shower, it clings to his forehead, curling at the ends. He looks like an angel spread out against their creamy white sheets and Minho wants to imprint this image on the inside of his eyelids and never forget it.

“Are you coming over here or are you just going to stand there and watch me like a perv?” Jisung teases, peaking one eye open.

A blush warms Minho’s cheeks. “I’m not a perv.”

“Sounds like something a perv would say. Come here.”

Minho indulges him, easing himself down onto Jisung’s lap. One of Jisung’s hands immediately finds purchase at Minho’s waist, gripping tight as he leans up for a kiss. These movements are practiced and familiar, but no less exciting. Every time he’s with Jisung like this it feels new. 

Jisung’s free hand is slick with lube from when he’d been touching himself, and he slides it now between Minho’s legs, pushing against his perineum with two fingers. Minho shudders, pressing his mouth against Jisung’s.

“Slow down,” he breathes. “Don’t you want to take your time?”

“Mm, no.” Jisung shakes his head, moving his fingers lower. “We have tomorrow to take our time.”

Jisung’s mouth is hot against Minho’s and the way Jisung’s tongue slides against his sends fire all the way through his body. Despite his comments just seconds ago, he can feel the desperation start to swell in him. Six long weeks since he’s even been _touched_ and he can really, _really_ feel it now, in the way Jisung teases his fingers along his rim. Minho, at some point, had started unconsciously rocking his hips back and forth along with the rhythm of their mouths, and on the next backward pull, two of Jisung’s fingers slip inside him, pulling a low, throaty noise from his mouth. 

Minho can feel Jisung’s smile against his mouth as he keeps rolling his hips, practically riding Jisung’s fingers. “You know I’ve already taken care of that,” Minho sighs as Jisung adds a third finger. 

“Weren’t you the one just telling _me_ to slow down.”

“Shut up.”

“Stealing my lines again?”

Minho wants to fire back but then Jisung curls his fingers forward and any quip he had dies on his lips. The nerves in the rest of his body come to life and he can feel _everything_ from the small scratch of Jisung’s fingernails digging into his hip, and the warmth of Jisung’s breath on his neck. Jisung crooks his fingers again, and Minho jolts, steadying himself on the headboard. 

“Fuck,” is all he manages to grit out, biting down on his lower lip.

Jisung hums in response, moving the tips of his fingers in slow, steady circles against Minho’s prostate. Soon, Minho’s legs are trembling. He scrabbles at the headboard, Jisung’s shoulders, anything to hold himself up, but Jisung knows his body so well, knows exactly where and how to touch him, and he’s done for. All thoughts of doing all the work and taking care of Jisung have gone out the window.

“Fuck, Jisung, just fuck me already.”

Jisung laughs, a low, dark sound as he pulls his fingers out. “God, you talk such a big game. _Let me take care of you._ Now look.”

“It’s about time you start pulling your weight around here,” Minho teases. Then his stomach drops as Jisung turns them over, pushing Minho down onto his back. 

Jisung hooks one of Minho’s legs over his shoulder, aligning their bodies. “You’re so demanding. You’re lucky I love you.”

“Lucky’s kind of pushing it, isn’t it?” 

Instead of an answer, Jisung pushes his cock inside Minho, and the stretch is dizzying. Minho’s breath catches in his throat and he swallows, letting out a long sigh. The look of pure satisfaction on Jisung’s face, hovering above him, is so sexy it sends Minho into a tail spin. He clings to Jisung’s taut biceps as his body takes its time to accommodate the stretch. It burns and it aches and it feels so _fucking_ good. 

“You good?” Jisung asks after a moment, leaning on one elbow and using his other hand to brush Minho’s hair off his forehead. 

Minho nods, pouting for a kiss, which Jisung tenderly indulges before slowly rolling his hips. Minho knows he’s not going to last long and so he tries to savor it, eyes drinking in the picture of Jisung’s blissed out face. He deepens their kiss, holding onto his own leg to ease the pressure off Jisung, and with this new angle, Jisung can go so _deep._ He can’t stop the sounds spilling from his mouth and Jisung eagerly swallows them down, the movement of his tongue mimicking the movement of his cock inside Minho’s body.

“You feel so good, babe,” Jisung groans into the crook of Minho’s neck. 

Minho preens, but he’s distracted by the steady drag against his prostate, the catch against his rim. Pressure builds in his balls and his cock desperately aches to be touched. He reaches his hand between his and Jisung’s bodies only to be swatted away a second later. Jisung shifts onto his knees, Minho’s legs wrapping tightly around his waist, and he uses one hand to stroke Minho, the other holding himself up so he can lean down and press wet, open mouthed kisses to Minho’s collar bones.

It doesn’t take much more than that before Minho’s thighs are clenching and his release is pulled from him in deep, long spurts all over Jisung’s hand. He deflates against the mattress, cock twitching feebly as Jisung milks him dry. 

“Should I pull out?” Jisung asks, mindful. The look on his face is pure adoration and it rocks through Minho’s whole body.

“No, please don’t,” Minho sighs, pulling him down to connect their lips. 

Jisung starts moving again, so close to the edge that he loses all finesse. His hips stutter and his grip on Minho is bruising. He comes deep inside him, cock pulsing, teeth finally clamping down on the sensitive tendon of Minho’s neck.

“Fuck, I love you,” Jisung pants, resting his weight on Minho’s body, forehead to Minho’s chest, right against his pounding heart. 

“It’s been so long.”

“I’m not done.”

Minho has a second to be confused before Jisung pulls out. He whines at the sudden loss, but it’s quickly drowned away as he watches Jisung kiss his way down his body, tongue lapping at the white streams of cum across Minho’s stomach. He licks and nips a trail all the way down, and Minho’s skin, already on fire, flushes under each new touch. A moment later, Jisung pushes Minho’s knees to his chest, lips and tongue quickly finding his hole.

“Oh, _fuck, Jisung,_ ” Minho groans, turning his face into the pillow to stifle just how _loud_ he’s being. All his nerves in overdrive, the feeling of Jisung licking inside him is heightened tenfold, and the sheer _filthiness_ of Jisung eating his own cum this way is almost too much for Minho to deal with.

Jisung hums again, and Minho feels the vibrations all through his body. It feels so good it almost _hurts_ and his legs shake with the effort of holding himself together. Jisung seems to realize this, slowly pulling away and letting Minho go, crawling back up to lock their lips in one more kiss. It’s _dirty_ but it’s so hot Minho almost wants to go again. 

“I love you too,” Minho manages with herculean effort.

He expects more teasing, but what he gets instead is another quick kiss and promise that Jisung will be right back. He’s gone in a flash and the air in the bedroom is cold without him, but he’s back just as quickly with a wet cloth to wipe Minho down.

“Can we go to bed now, princess?”

There it is.

Minho rolls his eyes, slapping Jisung’s shoulder playfully. He’s fucking exhausted, and now that Jisung isn’t buried inside him, he notices all the telltale signs of Jisung’s sleep deprivation all over again. The dark rings around his eyes, the stubble on his chin that has already left a searing rash on Minho’s sensitive skin. 

“We can, on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Jisung says, already settling into Minho’s side, nuzzling his face into Minho’s shoulder.

“You have to promise to do the dishes tomorrow morning.”

Jisung groans, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist and rocking them both. “I’m sorry,” he whines.

Minho turns on his side so they’re face to face, running his hand through Jisung’s hair. “Don’t be, I was just teasing.”

“I know, but I feel bad. I shouldn’t let the place get like this.”

Minho pulls him closer, wrapping him in his arms. “Hey, you take care of this place one hundred percent of the time when I’m not around, you’re allowed to let things slip now and again.”

“If you say so, hyung.”

“I do.”

Jisung shivers and it’s only then that Minho realizes they lost the blanket at some point, and sees it pooled on the floor at the foot of the bed. He goes to grab it, flicking off the desk lamp too while he’s up. It only takes a few seconds, but Minho finds a sleeping Jisung when he climbs back into bed, spreading the comforter over both their body. He sidles up to Jisung’s sleeping form, arm wrapping around his slim waist. The apartment might be a disaster, and his boyfriend might be a little stressed and strung out, but he’s so, _so_ happy to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twt](http://twitter.com/linosonlyfans) where i mostly complain about writing and cry about jisung


End file.
